It's not easy being sexy
by Third Eye
Summary: When fan girls attack! Whispering, hiding behind bookshelves, who said having a million stalkers would be fun? What happens when Viktor Krum is captured by the very creatures who adore him? R&R if you please..


_Howdy Ya'll! Third Eye here, would you belive it took me three days to write this? battling a severecase of ADHD i might add so yeah, read it, review it, you know the drill.._

_Everyone who reviwes gets an air cookie personally baked by the authoress!_

There once was a hot, shexy Bulgarian boy named Viktor Krum. Besides being hot and shexy, he was also a quidditch player for the national Bulgarian team, which led to his acquiring of a large amount of bloodthirsty fans. This is his story:

It was six thirty and no one at Hogwarts was up. That is, no one except Viktor Krum. He was in the library, working on the massive load of homework that had been assigned to all Drumstrang students going to Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Now, you may wonder why anyone in their right mind would even choose to be alive at six thirty unless they absolutely had to. Two words:

Fan girls.

Faster than a speeding bludger, more persistent than a swarm of locusts, even more obnoxious than five million small, winged rodents with five million small, winged machine guns, and the only think that Viktor Krum feared. Sure, bludgers he could handle, an evening of forced company with his headmaster; difficult, but not impossible, even the Chinese fireball from the first task was better than the eye-batting, lip-smacking, flag-waving, cheer-screaming fan girls. They followed him everywhere; to the library, to the great hall, to the ship, and, if they were really daring, the bathroom.

Viktor checked the large grandfather clock in the corner of the library. It was almost seven, and that was the time most Hogwarts students woke up for their day of study. Also, it was the time that the fan girls came down from the rafters of the attics and began to go about their daily preparations for the stalking of shexy Bulgarian quidditch players. Sighing, he went back to work on his Charms essay, all too aware of the impending doom that awaited him in a few short hours. Fan girls, unlike most teenage girls, feel the need to spend three hours on their hair in order to make the object of their obsession immediately fall in love with them. Luckily for him, until this almost plastic perfection was achieved, they refrained from their daily routine of giggling, whispering and eyelash-batting, mercifully leaving Viktor a few, precious, undisturbed hours to do his homework in the dusty silence of the library.

Viktor was used to screaming fans due to his fame, but at Hogwarts it was unbearable. While he could easily flee from them after games, nothing could keep these girls away from him when he attempted an escape through their territory. Ever since the first task, the problem had steadily worsened. Viktor did not know how the population of adoring fans seemed to double each day, or how, no matter where he went; they found him faster than he could politely decline their marriage proposals and slouch away to a hopefully better hiding spot, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the unthinkable happened. He had thought he had found the perfect place to hide, in the library, but he had unwittingly revealed his location when he asked a Hufflepuff girl where the library actually was. That's when it began. First, just she and her friend showed up to ogle him as he studied, but some nearly a dozen girls had appeared, all giggling and whispering and re-applying makeup to already painted-on faces. All they would do all day was stand behind the nearest bookshelf and whisper about fan-girlish things that they seemed to care oh-so-much-about. I.e. what he had for breakfast or how his hair "looked sooooo delish!" today. Thankfully, the vulture-like librarian kept them from giggling too loudly, but it was still very hard to concentrate on how to effectively ward off a hydra when roughly seventeen girls were giggling about what kind of undergarments he wore.

Finishing the essay, Viktor was about to put his numerous books back on the shelves when the most terrifying sound of all split the air. "Sshh:giggle: he'll hear us!"

Viktor flinched and immediately sat back down. The last thing he needed was to "accidentally" bump into some overly-makeuped teenager and never be free again. Maybe his essay could use a few revisions…or…something. Either way, he needed to plan this carefully if he wanted to live. Viktor knew that now was a very crucial point in his survival, because if he ran and failed to escape, he might be "glomped" in the hallway and never be seen again. However, he could just as easily be killed when he reached for another sheet of parchment should he choose to stay in the library. What was a shexy Bulgarian quidditch player to do? Thinking quickly, Viktor began to put this things into his bag and stand up, knowing well that what he was about to do was both idiotic and potentially life-threatening. While an attempt to escape was dangerous, it was still better than sitting in the library and awaiting the inevitable attack from just behind the bookshelves.

Slowly standing up, as to not alert his fan girls into an immediate attack, Viktor started heading for the door. Unfortunately, this had almost automatically triggered a pursuit from the many girls who had been watching him all morning.

He had reached the door. It was now or never.

"OH MY GODS! CEDRIC DIGGORY? VAT ARE YOU DOINGK VITHOUT YOUR SHIRT ON AND VHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BABY OIL?"

With that being said, or rather, being yelled down the opposite hallway, Viktor took off for the great hall at a dead sprint.


End file.
